


The Chosen Two

by captainthrace



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: AU, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-04
Updated: 2015-01-13
Packaged: 2018-02-07 09:52:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1894620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainthrace/pseuds/captainthrace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A propunk Buffy the Vampire Slayer AU.  Rachel and Sarah are slayers, what more can you want?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is just me messing around with the idea a bit, I'm kind of in love with this concept though so there will definitely be more.

Rachel doesn’t think that she’ll ever get used to being the “Chosen Two”. Not just because there should only be one Slayer, but because Sarah Manning seems like she’s anything but chosen. 

Sarah doesn’t fight like a Slayer. Her form is terrible – her loose punches immediately expose her lack of proper training. Sarah takes too long, cracks jokes, lets herself take a beating.

Sarah Manning breaks all the rules, if she even acknowledged their existence in the first place.

Rachel watches her, for a moment. She’s bantering with a tall, dark, and very much not amused vampire. He’s circling her, ready to go in for the kill.

Remember your training, a distant voice reminds her. Rachel directs her attention back to her target: a stocky, pimple-faced teen who’s clearly new to the game. Probably hasn’t been a vampire for more than a few days. It’s almost too easy.

She looks down at her watch.

Rachel rolls back her shoulders, pulls the stake out of her sleeve. Lands a kick to the face and he goes stumbling backwards into a tree. He mumbles something about a “fucking bitch” before Rachel’s stake sinks directly into his heart.

Rachel glances back down at the time. 20 seconds flat. She wipes off the dust that was once a person and looks to Sarah, who’s still preoccupied over by the mausoleum.

“Would you like any assistance,” Rachel asks over the grunts.

“All under control,” Sarah shouts back, throwing a high kick and landing her foot right against the vamp’s nose.

Rachel leans up against a tombstone and simply watches.

No, this isn’t a girl fighting to save the world. This girl fights like she’s fighting for her life. She doesn’t fight because it’s her duty, but because fighting is all she’s ever known how to do.

Sarah reaches for something in her sleeve, but comes up empty handed. She forgot her stake again, of course. Why is Rachel even surprised anymore?

“Shite,” Sarah mumbles, opting for a knee to the vampire’s groin. 

“You could borrow my stake, if you’d like.” Rachel calls, already knowing the answer.

“I’ve got it all,” she punches him in the jaw, “under,” in the throat, “control,” this time in the eye.

After another angry punch to the vamp’s jaw, Sarah runs forward and throws her entire body weight against him. They go tumbling onto the grass and Sarah straddles him, hands gripping either side of his head. 

Sarah twists his head completely to one side and it comes clean off with an obscene crack. He turns to dust in her hands, disappears into the ground underneath her, and Sarah rolls onto her back with an obnoxious “whoop” of victory.

“Well done,” Rachel walks across the wet grass and stands above her. “But your form could use a bit of work.”

“Oh, fuck off, Duncan,” Sarah gives her the finger, still flat on her back. “I killed the bastard, yeah? S’all that matters. Besides, mine was a hell of a lot bigger than yours.“

“Get up,” Rachel begrudgingly extends her hand down to the other slayer. “We still have a lot of patrolling to do.”

“Fine, fine.” Sarah grabs it and hops to her feet. “But next time I get the easy one, Duncan.”


	2. one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a new Slayer in town, and Rachel isn't too happy about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is always appreciated! This is my first attempt at writing propunk so we'll see how this goes.

            They don’t exactly get off on the right foot.

            If Sarah had done as she was told, things might have gone a little better. But when was Sarah known to listen to the rules of some boring old asshole?

            “I believe it would be best if you allow the council to inform Rachel of the circumstances,” Rachel’s stuffy twat of a Watcher had told her when she got into town, pronouncing the word _circumstances_ with such severity, it almost sounded like someone had fucking _died_.

            Well, to be fair, someone _did_ die. Rachel did, to be exact, but apparently she got better. The dying part isn’t surprising. Slayers tend to die young and horribly, that’s part of the deal. It’s the “not dead anymore” that’s the problem, and that’s kind of why Sarah’s here.

            Why Sarah’s here in this town, sitting up in this tree, watching her fight.

            Sarah definitely found the Slayer, that’s for damn sure. Rachel Duncan is five-foot-four inches of pure ancient _power._ She flips a fully-grown man (well, vampire) onto the ground with ease, her small but tense frame never faltering under his weight. Rachel’s body responds with perfect accuracy to her adversary’s every move. She doesn’t say a word as they dance, stalking him almost gracefully, following his every move as if it was rehearsed.  

            Sarah watches her fight, but what’s strange is that it’s not much like fighting at all. Rachel looks _bored_ grabbing him by the shoulders, sending him crashing against the mausoleum wall. Utterly _disinterested_ when her stake sinks perfectly into his heart.

            Even from up here, Sarah can feel the energy of the fight. It’s only been two days since she last patrolled, yet she already misses the feel of fists to stomach, knees to groins. Sarah loves it - the rush of saving someone and destroying some evil monster from under the bed.

            It’s in the Slayer blood. It’s instinct. It’s power.  How can Rachel not _feel_ that?

            Maybe it wears off with time, Sarah wonders. Rachel was called when she was 15, and three years on she’s still going strong (aside from the whole dying thing) so maybe she’s not fazed by it now.

            Sarah may be new to the game, but _shit,_ is it really possible for that feeling to get old? She can still remember the very first time she felt that now-familiar warmth sneak under her skin. She couldn’t sleep at all after her first night patrolling. She sleeps better these days, but even a year later, that post-slaying high hasn’t lost its charm.    

            Rachel wipes the dust off of her leather jacket, fixes her short bob of blonde hair. Puts away her stake. Looks around, _sighs_. Is she _disappointed?_

            She hears a _crack_ of wood underneath her and right about now Sarah realizes that she probably should’ve sat on a different branch.

            “ _Shit_ ,” Sarah’s hand flies down to her lower back as she struggles to her feet and _fuck_ , that hurts. She wonders if after all these vampires, it’ll be a stupid tree that does her in.

            Sarah catches a glimpse of something moving towards her and oh _shit,_ here we fucking go.

            “Woah, woah, I’m not here to –“ Rachel’s fist collides with her jaw before she can finish.

            Sarah stumbles back, just barely managing to dodge Rachel’s next punch. She resists the urge to knock her on her ass, because first impressions and all. Instead, she just holds her hands up in the air and backs away slowly.

            “Oi! Listen, Blondie! I’m not a fuckin’ vampire.”

            Rachel stalks towards her with uninterrupted confidence. Her eyes are fixed straight forward, staring at her (no, _through_ her) and it’s pretty clear that once you get Rachel going, there’s not much stopping her.

            So much for first impressions.

            “Oh, _fuck it,”_ Sarah intercepts Rachel’s fist this time, stopping it with her hand and twisting her arm to the side. _Might as well enjoy a good fight._

            “C’mon, loosen up a bit!” Sarah’s all wolf-grin and loose shoulders, circling the other Slayer. “I’m a little rusty. Could use some practice.”

            Even now Rachel doesn’t break her icy glare. Her eyes follow Sarah’s every move as she steps around her. Rachel pulls the stake back out of her sleeve and grips it tightly.

            “Jesus, I told you,” Sarah groans, “I’m not a vampire!” She takes a run at Rachel head on and cocks back a fist – but it’s her right foot that swings around to collide with Rachel’s knee that sends the blonde slayer stumbling to the side.

            Sarah realizes, distantly, that this is the first time anything like this has ever happened. Two slayers in the same place, fighting against one another. By definition, one shouldn’t exist alongside the other. If it came down to it, who would come out on top? Would Sarah get the best of her, or would they both end up killing the other?

_(what happens when an unstoppable force meets another unstoppable force?)_

            With her guard down, Sarah grabs her by the shoulders and head butts her with a _crack._ She can already feel the throb in her head, how much she’s going to regret doing that in the morning. But Rachel’s cracking, icy cool giving way to the heat of anger, of frustration. Sarah grimaces through the pain and rips the stake out of Rachel’s grasp before she can even think to lift it, sending it flying across the grass.

            The fight ends (too soon, Sarah’s just getting warmed up) with Rachel’s back pressed up against a tree and Sarah’s hand wrapped around her neck.

            Sarah pulls the small wooden cross necklace out from inside her shirt and clutches it tight. “Wearin’ a cross, see? Not a vampire.” Helena had given the cross to her for her birthday, and Sarah’s sure that her sister will happy to know that she remembered to wear it tonight.

            Sarah releases her hand from Rachel’s neck. “Didn’t come here to kill you, by the way. But if you’re gonna keep bein’ such a bitch I might have a change in plans.”

            Sarah takes a step back and rubs the back of her head. She’s hurting, but it’s all worth it to see the look on Rachel’s face right now. Defeat looks good on her.

            Sarah chuckles. “Not used to gettin’ your ass kicked, yeah?”

            “What _are_ you?” Rachel practically spits out, and Sarah’s just glad to get her talking.

            “Name’s Sarah Manning, the vampire Slayer.”

            Rachel’s eyes narrow and Sarah can see those hands balling back up into angry fists. “That’s impossible.”

            Sarah shoves her hands in her pockets and rocks back on her heels. “Yeah, yeah, you’re a slayer too. You can save the whole ‘I’m the Chosen One’ deal, I know the story. I also know you had a little accident a year back, yeah?”

            Rachel’s shoulders tense up even more than before (how is that even physically possible?) and she turns her chin up, eyes focusing on anything _but_ Sarah.

            “I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean,” she says, finally.

            Sarah paces back and forth in front of her. “You died, yeah? For a minute or whatever. And your little Watcher friends brought ya back. Look don’t feel bad ‘bout it. You died, no need to be ashamed. Shit happens.”

            Rachel takes a step towards her and Sarah smiles when she hears the blonde suck in a quick breath. _Yeah, that’s gonna hurt tomorrow, Blondie._

            “What does this have to do with anything?” Rachel asks.

            Sarah keeps pacing, eyes on the ground. “One Slayer dies, the next is called. That’s how the bloody story goes. You kicked the bucket and I got superpowers.” She turns her head up towards Rachel with a smirk. “Thanks for that, by the way.”

            “I…. The Council never informed me of this possibility,” Rachel keeps her voice even and directs her gaze back to Sarah. Rachel’s eyes rake her up and down and something tells her that Rachel’s not going to take this well.

            “They really don’t tell you _shit_ down here, do they?”

            Not that Sarah’s really surprised, of course. The Watchers’ Council hasn’t given her much reason to trust them up until this point.

            Rachel ignores the question. “Why have you come here? Why now?”

            Sarah kneels down to the ground.

            “I hate to admit it, but we’ve got a bit of an apocalypse brewin’ in my neck of the woods.” She picks up Rachel’s stake off the ground and flips it over in her hands. “Ancient prophecy, demon from another dimension.“ Sarah gets to her feet, running her fingers across the wood. She wonders how many vamps Rachel’s taken out with this thing. “Figured it might be a two-slayer job.”

            Sarah holds out the stake and offers it to Rachel. “You wanna save the world, Blondie?”

 


	3. two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rachel meets the Scooby Gang, and the two Slayers face off with the Big Bad. Sexual tension abounds.

           Toronto.       

           Population: 2.6 million. Largest city in Canada. Home of the Toronto Maple Leafs and the world’s most active Hellmouth.

           Home sweet home.

           It was hard enough convincing Rachel to follow her back to Toronto, let _alone_ her Watcher. He insisted that her presence wasn’t necessary, that this was probably only a _minor_ apocalypse. Cleveland has a Hellmouth, too, and Rachel was needed there just as much as in Toronto. After a meeting with the council, of course, it was decided that Rachel could temporarily relocate to Toronto until the Big Bad is taken care of. Gotta love bureaucracy, right?

           Sarah _may_ have exaggerated the urgency of the situation, but hey, an apocalypse is an apocalypse, isn’t it? It worked for the Council, and here they are now, two Slayers side-by-side about to save the world.

           Of course, Rachel didn’t seem too impressed with the story. Sarah doesn’t take it personally, though, because she’s pretty damn sure that Rachel Duncan’s never been impressed by anything in her life.

           “I noticed a lot of demons turnin’ up dead about a week back,” Sarah had explained that first night in the cemetery, trying to ignore Rachel’s eyes raking her up and down. “Normally, I’d appreciate someone makin’ my job easier. But this was fucking weird – I’m talking ritualistic sacrifices, draining the blood, carving weird symbols into the body, removing organs, weird shit.”

Rachel crossed her arms across her chest. “I still don’t see why my presence is necessary.”

         Sarah rolls her eyes. “Shit, can I finish?”

         It’s not until she explained the Latin carved on the bodies that referenced an end-of-the-world prophecy that Rachel finally (and with an exasperated sigh) agreed to join her.

           She knows that Rachel wouldn’t admit it, but Sarah thinks that deep down, Rachel’s glad to be away from the council. Maybe not so much now on this smelly bus as they sit in tense silence, but soon enough Sarah will pull out whatever stick Rachel has shoved up her ass.

           When they get to the loft, Cosima’s sprawled out on the floor, wrinkled papers and worn out books surrounding her in messy piles. She doesn’t seem to notice them come in, eyes glued to whatever she’s got scrawled in a notebook, a joint hanging lazily between her lips.

           Her head finally whips up at the sound of Felix’s voice. “Well, look who it is! The Chosen Two in the flesh.”

           “Oh, shit, hey!” Cosima puts out the joint and gets to her feet.

           Felix hops up from the couch and tosses aside whatever book Cosima had apparently shoved into his hands. He steps carefully over Cosima’s makeshift library and pulls Sarah into a tight hug.

           “Good to see ya, Fee,” Sarah pulls away and looks over to Rachel, who’s standing a few feet back, watching. “Fee, this is Rachel. Rachel, Fee.”

           Felix looks Rachel up and down before giving her a nod of approval. “Heard you beat up my sister, nice work.”

           Sarah punches Felix hard in the shoulder – she could probably break it if she wanted, but a bruise will be more than enough. “Help our guest with her shit, will ya?”

           Felix mumbles something under his breath, rubbing his shoulder. “Can I take your bag?”

           Rachel offers a courteous smile and holds out her duffle bag. “Thank you, Felix.”

           He slings the bag over his shoulder and pointedly bumps into Sarah as he walks away.

           “Hey, where’s Helena?” Sarah calls after him.

           Felix tosses the bag on the bed. “Dunno. Said something about making you a present or some shit.”

           “Oh, that’ll be interesting.”

           “Hey,” Cosima steps forward with a meek half-wave, “I’m Cosima.”

           “Rachel Duncan. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Rachel holds out her hand and Cosima takes it enthusiastically.

          “Yeah, yeah we’ll get to whole bonding thing later,” Sarah says, pacing across the floor and plopping herself down on the couch. “What’s the update on the Big Evil, Cos?”

           Sarah taps the spot next to her, but Rachel stays put.

           “Well, for starters I finally got a name,” Cosima’s already back on the floor, shuffling through loose papers. “Not really a name, more like a nickname. It’s kinda cool, actually. When you look at the original Latin –“

           Sarah sighs. “The abridged version, Cos.”

           “Turns out he’s a hella old vampire, calls himself The Redeemer."    

            “Christ, of course he does."

            “Yeah, sounds like a real piece of work. All high and mighty. And he's bad news.

           “The guy's dead set on bringing the world back to a time when demons walked the earth. I'm not talking the watered down human-demon hybrids we see every day; he wants the ancient guys back. Even just _one_ breaking out would be pretty much a worst-case scenario. The guy probably thinks the demons alive right now are an insult to their ancestors, which would explain why he’s killing them.”

           Felix leans up over the back of the couch. “Bit of a hypocrite, yeah? Bein’ a vampire and all, isn’t he an insult to his stupid ancestors?”

           “Technically, yes, but he thinks of himself as a servant. Serving some higher cause or whatever. Might think that the big guys will make him go full-demon if he releases them. Either way, not good.”

           Rachel clears her throat. “He’s just one vampire. Should he really be that difficult to stop?”

           Cosima shrugs. “I mean, yeah, usually this would be pretty cut and dry. Crazy vamp with a mission isn’t exactly new, is it?   Thing is, the guy’s taking out a ton of heavy-hitting demons so he’s got to be strong. I’d bet he’s using some sort of magic, too.”

           "Bloody fantastic,” Sarah mumbles. “What does the prophecy say?"

           “That's where it gets shaky. The text doesn't exactly say if he'll succeed or not."

           "Seems likes a key detail to me,” Rachel muses.

            "Yeah, well, whoever wrote this prophecy apparently didn’t think it was worth mentioning,” Cosima flips through one of her notebooks. “All it says is that he's gonna to try to open the Hellmouth and if he does, we’re all totally fucked."

           Sarah runs her hand through her hair. "So all we know is that we're screwed? That's comforting."

           "I'm working on it. I sent Tony and Alison to one of the less sketchy demon bars in town to see if they can pick up any tips on where this guy's hiding out."          

           Sarah’s eyes widen. "Tony and _Alison_? At a demon bar?"

           "Alison insisted on going with him for back up."

           "Shite…” Sarah leans back and looks up at her foster brother. “Oi, why didn’t you go?”

           Felix rolls his eyes, “I’m not dealing with that shit again! Not after last time.”

           “So you let _Alison_ go instead?” Tony she understands. Beth wouldn’t be shocked by the scene. Helena would no doubt be able to hold her own. But _Alison?_ Bedazzling, pink-wearing, community theatre Alison?

           Gun toting, fiercely passionate, “would probably kill a man for looking at her the wrong way” Alison.

           Sarah shakes her head. “Nevermind, she’ll probably be good at that.”

           “Even if she can’t scare them into talking, I figure those guys will be pretty willing to talk if they know anything. If we don’t stop this asshole, everyone’s screwed.”

          Sarah chuckles. “No pressure, then?”

__________________________________________________________________________

 

           The first night they patrol together, Sarah can feel Rachel’s eyes on her the whole time. They bust a vampire nest in the basement of an old abandoned apartment building. It’s ten versus two. Sarah smiles.

           Sarah watches her, too. Catches glimpses of Rachel as they fight. Sees her takes down a vampire nearly twice her size with ease before moving onto the next, making contact with a roundhouse kick to his already disfigured face.

           They lock eyes once. Sarah looks over her shoulder just as Rachel stakes one of the females in the group. She can see the hint of fire behind Rachel’s eyes, the slightest ghost of a smile on her face.

           So she _is_ capable of human emotion.

           “Nice to see you loosen up, Blondie!” Sarah shouts and (oh _motherfucking shit that hurts)_ takes a vampire fist to the jaw and yeah, that shit’s dislocated.

           “Eyes on your target, Manning,” Rachel mumbles as she throws another body against the wall. Sarah grunts and makes sure her elbow _somehow_ finds itself jabbed into Rachel’s side.

           They might as well be fighting each other, to tell the truth.

           The dance ends and they’re the last ones standing when the dust settles. Back to back, she can feel the heat of her. Everything Rachel feels, she feels the same.

           It’s Rachel’s breath catching in her throat. Rachel’s heartbeat thrumming behind her ears. Rachel’s skin pressing hot against her own.

           Even though Rachel might not want to admit it, Sarah thinks, they aren’t so different after all.

* * *

 

           The next few days are spent following false leads that almost always end in Rachel’s hand wrapped around a vampire’s throat, her voice low and cool as she probes carefully for more information.

           Sarah watches over her shoulder as Rachel pins a vampire against a dirty alley wall.

           “I will ask you one more time,” Rachel drags the tip of her stake down the woman’s chest, other hand tightening around her neck. “What can you tell me about The Redeemer?”

           The woman’s eyes dart down to the dangerous patterns Rachel draws against her skin.

           “Shit, I told you,” she chokes out. “I don’t know anything!”

           These interrogations always end, of course, with Rachel’s stake putting a swift end to yet another fruitless conversation.

           “How unfortunate,” Rachel murmurs, soft and almost sounding genuinely apologetic. She kills the vampire with one quick movement of her wrist and turns around to face Sarah with a sigh.

           “Yeah, yeah, I know,” Sarah says, running her hand through her hair. “That was the last lead we had. We’ll find him soon, okay?”

           The moonlight casts strange shadows across Rachel’s face. She cocks her head slightly to the side. “Why did you ask me to come here, Sarah?”

           Sarah shrugs, taking a step back to lean against the dumpster. “Told you. Thought we could use a bit of help. No such thing as being too safe or whatever, yeah?”

           Rachel steps towards her, and Sarah feels a lot like prey. “I don’t think that’s true. While I’ll admit that this is a bit…concerning, this Redeemer doesn’t appear to be something you can’t handle..”

           Sarah shoves her hands in her pockets. “My apocalypse not up to your standards? Shit, next time the world’s gonna end, I won’t even bother invitin’ you.”

           “Don’t play games with me, Sarah,” Rachel voice drops to a low growl. “Why did you bring me here?”

           Sarah realizes that she’s been avoiding eye contact and drops her gaze to meet Rachel’s. “Look, there's not much to it. I heard a lot 'bout you and wanted to get to know you for myself. Heard you were a good fighter. It’s not every day that you get to meet another Slayer, is it?”

           There’s a long silence.   Jesus, what kind of stick does this chick have up her ass? Why does everything have to be so goddamn life-or-death serious all the time with this girl?

           Finally, Rachel _smirks._

           “What the hell are you smiling about?” Sarah says, giving the blonde a shove away from her.

           “You admire me,” Rachel says and that stupid smirk won’t go away. Shit, is Rachel loving this. “I’m flattered.”

           Sarah decides that she likes Rachel better when she’s an emotionless ice queen.

           Rachel turns and walks back towards the road without another word. “Come on, we better make the rounds.”

           “Oi, I never said that!” Sarah shouts after her. “I don’t admire you!”

           “Oh, yes you do,” Rachel doesn’t even turn around, but Sarah can swear she hears her laughing.

* * *

 

           “How ‘bout we have another go at it, yeah? I had a good time fightin’ ya the other night so I say we have a rematch. Just you and me, no weapons. Let’s see who lands on top.”

           “I appreciate the offer Sarah, but I train alone.”

            “Listen, I know you’ve got this whole “Chosen One” bullshit stuck in your head, but you’re gonna have to get used to not being the only child anymore.”

           “I train alone.”

           From where Sarah’s standing, what Rachel’s doing doesn’t look so much like training. Creepy yoga on a roof, maybe, but that doesn’t seem like something that’ll come in handy fighting vampires.

           “What the hell are you doing, anyway?” Sarah sits on the edge of the roof, peering down into the street. The setting sun casts shadows across the ground, across teens skateboarding around parked cars, men in suits passing through on their way home.

           “Meditating.”

           “Sounds boring,” Sarah looks back to Rachel. She’s still frozen in place, eyes closed.

            The smallest hint of annoyance flickers across Rachel’s face. “Believe it or not, Sarah, there’s more to slaying than just stabbing things with sticks,” she changes positions, pulling her arms over her head and Sarah tries to ignore the way Rachel’s tank top rides up her waist.

           “Concentration, patience, and discipline are essential,” Rachel adds dryly.

           “That what your Watcher buddies taught ya?” Sarah gets up and walks towards her, wonders how close she can get before Rachel tries to punch her in the face. “They really got you whipped. ”

           “I’m not interested in competition, Sarah. I have nothing to prove to you.”

           “Bullshit. I see you watchin’ me fight every night. Face it, Blondie. I beat you fair and square and you _hate_ it,” Sarah paces a circle around her. “Either that or you’ve got the hots for me. Which one is it?”

           “You’re the one who said that you admired me.”

           “Avoidin’ the question, yeah?”

           “Fine,” Rachel’s eyes flicker open and she lets her arms fall to her sides. “If you’ll shut up, I’ll humor you.”

           Sarah smiles, quickly pulling off her jacket before Rachel can change her mind, smoothes out the black t-shirt underneath. “Let the record show that you didn’t deny havin’ the hots for me, so I’ll assume that one’s true.”

           Rachel ignores the comment and rolls back her shoulders. “Just allow me a moment to –”

           Sarah cuts her off with a punch to the face. “Whoops.”

            Rachel sucks in a quick breath, and then they dance.

           Sarah ensures that all of Rachel’s punches narrowly miss their target. She steps back, ducks down, rolls to the side when Rachel pushes her too close to the edge.

           “So, Blondie, tell me about yourself. How’d ya die?”

           “Stop talking.”

           “Fine, fine, we’ll start with somethin’ easier. How ‘bout: why’re you so bloody serious all the time? Loosen up.”

           “Shut up,” Rachel growls - another miss. “And _fight_ me.”

          “I’ll stop talking when you start.”

           Rachel pulls back, hands made into tight balls around her waist. Circles her. Waits. “I will not let a Watcherless _tramp_ interrogate me.”

           “That’s the spirit!” Sarah laughs, placing her hands behind her head. “But you’re wrong. I’ve got a Watcher, remember? Mrs. S just lets me make my own decisions, is all.”

           Rachel crosses behind her back, each step slow and deliberate. “Are you implying that I can’t think for myself?”

           She watches Rachel’s shadow move across hers. “Nah, I just want to know what you’ve got up your ass.”

           Rachel moves behind her and Sarah just barely evades contact, laughing as Rachel goes stumbling past her. “You’re lucky vampires are dumb as shit,” she chuckles as Rachel composes herself, straightening herself up back into the immaculate form of hers.

           Sarah takes a step towards her. “‘Cause you’re really predictable, you know that? Probably why ya died.”

           Rachel grunts and lunges forward, hands reaching for Sarah’s throat. Before she can make contact, Sarah’s knee catches her in the groin, fist into stomach. She sends Rachel reeling backwards and Sarah finally allows herself to go in for the kill.

           They go tumbling to the ground and it’s Sarah who ends up on top, legs straddling either side of Rachel’s waist. Her hands press down threateningly on Rachel’s throat.

           “Looks like I win.”

           “The fight isn’t over.

           “You wanna go again? ‘Cause I’m just getting started.”

           “Am I interrupting something?”

           “Shit, Fee.” Sarah’s head whips up to see Felix standing just a few feet away, a smug look on his face. Rachel takes the opportunity to punch her in the face, sending Sarah off balance and onto the floor beside her. Sarah swears under her breath and sits up, rubbing her jaw.

           “What is it?” Sarah grumbles.

           “Cos says she knows where the bastard is, for real this time. So if you two are quite finished dry humpin’ you might want to get going. World’s not gonna save itself.”

* * *

 

           Helena’s ‘present’ turned out to be a new crossbow, one that’d she’d been working on for the past week. She had been mysteriously absent the last few days, leaving early and returning late with a bag that she demanded no one touch. The end result is a surprisingly well-crafted weapon with Sarah’s name carved on the side. She gives a demonstration, sending a bolt whizzing past Rachel’s head.

           Helena holds out the crossbow and beams up at Sarah, which makes telling her she can’t come tonight a hell of a lot harder.

“More is better, yes?” Helena cocks her head to the side. “Easier to kill with more.”

           Sarah runs her hand along the handle of the crossbow. “Not if you end up dead. After Rachel and I take care of this, we’ll go patrolling later. Just you and me, yeah?”

           Helena shoots a glare to Rachel, who’s pulling on an old jean jacket. “You will be safe?” she asks.

           “Of course, Meathead.”

           “Do not call me this.”

           Sarah can’t help but find herself hugging Helena a little tighter than usual. Felix mouths the words ‘be safe’ as she gave one last glance over her shoulder.

           Cosima sends them to the sewers and god, if this asshole isn’t actually here Sarah’s gonna be _pissed._

           They walk in silence for a while. Rachel only speaks up every ten minutes or so to make sure that Sarah _really_ knows that they’re going in the right direction.

           “Shut the fuck up or so help me _god_ I’ll turn this car around,” Sarah finally shouts and Rachel does that stupid half-smirk again and suddenly she regrets not throwing Rachel off the roof when she had the chance.

           After another twenty minutes of near-silence, Rachel speaks up again. “I find it intriguing that you allow your human sister to patrol with you. How…unconventional.”

Sarah glances over at her in surprise. “Do you not have anyone who helps you?”

           “No.”

           “Shit, you serious? You don’t have _any_ friends?” Granted, she shouldn’t _really_ be all that surprised. Rachel never seemed like one to have many friends, but still.

           “Apart from the aide of my Watcher and the rest of the council, I’ve managed to maintain a certain isolation that I find advantageous.”

           She talks about her life like it’s a job.

           Sarah shrugs, nearly stumbling over god _knows_ what as they trek through the dank sewer. “I dunno, I couldn’t imagine doing it alone. It’s got to get lonely after a while.”

           “We’re Slayers, Sarah,” Rachel says with a seriousness that’s strange even for her. “We were designed to be alone. To live any other way is to deny our design.”

           “You got a problem with the way I do my job, Blondie?”

“I simply think that you fail to recognize what you truly are.”

           “Hey, we’re human too, you know. Just a little stronger than the rest, yeah?”

           “You and I, Sarah, are more than human. We’re Slayers. We have power. This is our world, not theirs.”

           The superiority complex shouldn’t really come as a surprise, either. Raised by Watchers, no outside influences, no friends, no life. It’d be hard _not_ to be a pompous asshole.

           “Just because we have power, it doesn’t make us better than them,” Sarah says. “Besides, I’m stronger with them. We’ve got a shitty job, Rachel, but it’s a hell of a lot easier when you’re not by yourself.”

           “They may give you strength for now, but sooner or later you’re going to get them killed. Then you’ll have nothing but pain.”

           Rachel thinks love is a burden, a disaster waiting to happen.

           Sarah shakes it off with a laugh. “Jesus, you’re just a bloody ray of sunshine, aren’t you?”

           Rachel changes the subject. “We must be getting close. We need to be strategic about this, Sarah. Let him make the first move. The more we can find out before engaging, the better. It’s best if we avoid doing anything…rash.”

           “What the hell is that supposed to mean? Are you implying that I’m _rash?_ ”

           The slightest ghost of a smile creeps on Rachel’s face. “Not at all.”

           Sarah shrugs. “I think I did a hell of a job bein’ strategic when I kicked your ass today, didn’t I?”

           Rachel doesn’t say anything the rest of the way, but Sarah can practically hear her mentally calculating her revenge.

           _Little Miss “I’m not one for competition”, my ass._

           When they finally come across the jagged hole in the wall leading down deeper underground, Sarah steps back and holds out a hand in mock courtesy.

           “Ladies first.”

* * *

 

           “You two will make wonderful sacrifices. We better get started, then. Shall we?”

           Turns out this guy has a _hell_ of an evil lair. And a _hell_ of a shitty tattoo job, but that’s neither here nor there.

           He towers above the two of them, well over six feet tall and _ripped._ The aforementioned shitty tattoos cover his bare chest, all of them clearly self-applied symbols of unknown origin. His veiny, ghost white head is completely bald. He stands at his alter, a sick smile on his face.

           The Redeemer – shit, that’s still a stupid name – also apparently has a penchant for knives. He twirls twin blades, one in each hand.

           “Hate to disappoint, but no demons here,” Sarah retorts, eyes drifting across the walls of his make-shift cave. They’re lined with organs, limbs, severed heads. All arranged in bizarre patterns in the earth.

           Sarah feels uneasy. Rachel’s arm brushes against her. Rachel’s eyes are cool, unfading. She looks right through him without fear.

           (because fear would mean she’s weak)

           “You _are_ Slayers, aren’t you? I can smell it on you,” he steps out from behind his alter, twirling the blades, drawing exaggerated circles in the air. Sarah clutches her crossbow.

           (because weakness would mean she’s like Sarah)

           He continues. “Have your Watchers left you in the dark? You’re no more than a common demon, after all... You have more in common with the monsters you kill than with the people you save.”                                                                            

           “Alright, I've heard enough,” Sarah mumbles under her breath, takes aim with the crossbow and –

           Flies against the wall, her weapon falling to the floor. She can’t move. Shit.

           “Sarah!” For a split second, Rachel sounds _concerned_ for her, but Sarah’s name catches strangely in her throat and she swallows hard, looking back to The Redeemer.

           “Telekinesis, how fascinating,” Rachel remarks.

 _Don’t do anything rash._ Oh, if Sarah survives this then Rachel’s going to have a _field_ day with that.

           He shrugs. “Working for the Old Ones has its perks,” he points a knife in Sarah’s direction. “If this one's Sarah, that would make you Rachel. Oh, I've heard _much_ about you.”

           “What did you mean?” Rachel asks, watching him carefully. “How are we like… you?”

           “Rachel, don't listen to a bloody word he says, he's lying –”

           He flicks his wrist to the side, tightening an invisible grip around Sarah’s throat before releasing seconds later. She gasps for air.                               

           “You're an annoying one, aren't you? I'll kill you first.”

           He turns back to Rachel, taking a few steps towards her. She holds her ground.

           “The first slayer was given the heart of a demon. I’m surprised your Watcher never told you.”

           He inches forward again, twirls the blades. Rachel Duncan doesn’t flinch. Her eyes flicker up to Sarah’s, then back to The Redeemer.

_What do you have up that pretentious-ass sleeve of yours, Blondie?_

           “I see it in you,” he says, practically whispers. “It’s where your power comes from, what separates you from the rest. You're not human, you’re more. Come with me, and you can be everything.”

           “What happened to sacrificing the unworthy?” Rachel glances over at the body parts lining the walls.

           “Those who do not see the truth are unworthy,” he looks pointedly to Sarah. “Accept the truth, and come with me. We can return the world to the old way.”

           “Why should I believe a word you say?”

           He’s practically on top of her now, towering above. Sarah strains against the invisible weight holding her down because _shit_ , maybe Rachel doesn’t know what she’s doing after all.

           “Because you know it to be true,” he continues. “I can see right through you, there’s darkness inside of you, and you know it too.”

           Rachel looks down at her feet and sucks in a breath. Looks back up at him.

           Her stake falls to the ground.

           (oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck)

           “When do I start?” Rachel looks up at him, smiling now.

           “What the _fuck,_ Rachel!?” Sarah shouts. The Redeemer only grins.

           "Hmm. I have to admit, that was much easier than I anticipated it would -" Rachel's hand darts up to his neck, yanks down on something and Sarah goes tumbling to the ground and Rachel throws the amulet to the side and of fucking _course_ it's an amulet, the magic's always in a fuckin' amulet. How did she miss that?

           Rachel kicks the stake towards Sarah as he cuts at the air around her, grumbling something about a "fucking bitch" as he moves. It happens quickly after that. Sarah gets to her feet while he's distracted with Rachel, his blade catching her arm once and cutting through fabric and skin. She winces and jumps It's not long before Sarah runs at him from behind and sinks the stake deep into his back.

           It's just the two of them again.

          

* * *

 

           The blades clatter to the floor and it's Sarah in front of her now, shoulder heaving with every breath she takes. She looks at Rachel in disbelief. Blood drips down the side of her arm where metal met skin.

           Sarah's face is flush with the heat of adrenalin. "Jesus, I thought you were gonna ditch me for a minute there! But shit, that was insane."

           "I must admit, that was almost too easy." Rachel swallows back the lump in her throat and runs her hand along her arm.

           "Oh, shit," Sarah reaches out to touch her and Rachel pulls away instinctively. "You okay?"

           "Just a scratch," Rachel waves it off and wipes her hands on her jeans before kneeling down to the ground and retrieving the knives from the dirt,

           "Takin' a souvenir? Didn't fancy you to be one for knives but hey, whatever floats your boat."

           “No,” Rachel runs her fingers along the edge of the blade, “it's a _trophy_.”

           "Same difference. C'mon, let's get out of here," Sarah grabs her shoulder, "We saved the world, I say we celebrate."

           Rachel stares down at the curved metal, stained with her own blood and her own reflection.

_You can be everything._

 


	4. three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sarah and Rachel decide to celebrate saving the world because, why the hell not? Even more sexual tension and some angst abound.

           Celebrating, of course, means stealing a bottle of whiskey and drinking Rachel Duncan under the table.

           Sarah picked the spot.  The roof of the mausoleum was the perfect place to celebrate, she decided.  Here, they could kick back but still keep an eye on what was happening in the cemetery.  They did have a job to be doing, after all.

           She had offered to help Rachel clean the gash on her arm on their way over here, but the other Slayer had predictably refused any help.

           Now, here on top of the mausoleum, Rachel pulls out a small first-aid kit out of her bag (of course she carries one of those around) while Sarah takes a swig of whiskey.

           Before she can even let Rachel try to clean the jagged gash on her forearm, Sarah takes another swig from the bottle and sets it down in between them.

           “Gimme that,” Sarah mumbles, reaching over to grab Rachel by the wrist. “Just swallow your stupid pride and let me look, okay?”

           Sarah wonders how many times Rachel’s cleaned her own wounds, bandaged them up alone because she was too damn proud to admit she needed help.

           She loosens her grip around Rachel’s wrist and smiles. “See, it’s not so bad, innit?”

           “Thank you,” it sounds like Rachel might even mean it.

           “It’s already startin’ to close up. Gotta love that regenerative healin’ shit. Does it hurt?”

           “Not terribly.”

           “Here,” Sarah hands her the whisky. Rachel takes it and pulls the bottle to her lips while Sarah cleans out the wound. “So, you ever gonna tell me how you died?”

           Rachel’s left hand tightens around the bottle.  Her right is tensed up Sarah’s lap. “I don’t see why it’s important,” she says before taking another sip. “What’s passed is passed.”

           Sarah shakes her head. “You fuckin’ died. Seems pretty damn important to me.”       

           Rachel doesn’t say anything.

           “Fine, fine.  Don’t have to tell me anythin’,” Sarah pulls out a small roll of bandages.  Sarah’s not really sure what she’s doing. Alison or Cosima usually bandages her up when shit goes sideways.      

Sarah starts wrapping the bandage around Rachel’s forearm.  “Okay, just tell me one thing,” she says, looking up at her. “What’s it like?”

           “Are you asking me what it’s like to die?” Rachel asks.  She almost sounds amused.

           Sarah shrugs and tears off the bandage from the roll. “Yeah, everyone thinks ‘bout it but no one really knows.  Did ya see the bright lights or Jesus or some shit?”

           Rachel doesn’t say anything for a moment, stares forward. Thinks. “I saw nothing,” she says finally. “Whatever is… after is peace. It’s quiet, it’s dark, it’s simple.  And then they brought me back into this wretched world.”

           “You didn’t wanna come back?”

           “Of course I’m fortunate to be alive. I just find it irresponsible of the Council to meddle so recklessly in matters of life and death.”

           Sarah shoves everything back into Rachel’s dumb little first-aid kit and looks down at her attempt at first aid. “Good as new.”

           If Rachel has any criticisms, she doesn’t let Sarah know.  “Thank you,” she pulls her hand back into her lap and passes the bottle back to Sarah.

           “No problem. You’re right though, that’s pretty fucked.  You coulda been a zombie or some shit,” Sarah takes another sip of whiskey. “Why’d they do it? No offense or anything, but I was gonna get called anyway.  Why try to bring you back?”

           Rachel sighs. “They didn’t want to go through the hassle of training another Slayer, I presume.  The Council didn’t think ten minutes would be long enough for another Slayer to be called,” Sarah sees a smile pull at the corner of her lips.  “Their mistake. Of course, so they kept up the lie so I wouldn’t find out.”

           Sarah holds out the bottle, but Rachel waves it away.  Sarah takes another sip.

           “Fuck ‘em, then!” Sarah shouts. “Mrs. S doesn’t keep shit from me.  You should stay here. S can be your new watcher and you’ll be a full time member of the bloody Scooby Gang.”

           “As much as I would enjoy that I’m afraid that the Council would never allow that to happen.”

           “So? What’s a bunch a’ stuffy twats against a couple of Slayers? We could take on the world, you and me!”

           Rachel laughs. “I’ll think about it.”

           “Good,” Sarah says. “And, hey, ‘bout earlier. You know he was jus’ fuckin’ with us, right? That Redeemer twat. He doesn’t know shit ‘bout you and me.”

           Rachel scoffs. “You really think I’m naïve enough to fall for that, Sarah? I’m more concerned about you.  After all, you did nearly get yourself killed tonight.”

           “Oi!” Sarah punches Rachel in the shoulder.  “I already gave ya credit, don’t rub it in!”

           “I wonder how it would’ve turned out had I not been there,” and there’s that stupid little smug half-smile.

           “Alright, alright, we’re even.  I beat your arse back in Cleveland then again today – that’s two points right there.  You saved mine tonight so I guess that can count as two.  Even Stevens, yeah?”

           “I find it a bit childish to keep score.”

           “That’s rich comin’ from the girl who bloody times how long it takes her to kill a vampire,” Rachel opens her mouth to protest but Sarah cuts her off. “Yeah, that’s right!  Saw you checkin’ your bloody watch the other night.”

           That smug smile disappears and Rachel looks away. “I did no such thing.”

           “Did too.”

           Rachel sighs and holds out her hand expectantly. “Pass me the whiskey,” she says.  Sarah shoves the bottle towards her and laughs.  Truth be told, she doesn’t think she’ll ever get tired of fucking with Rachel.

           Rachel takes a swig of whiskey and they don’t say anything for a while.  Sarah lets her feet dangle over the side of the mausoleum.  The moon, full and bright, illuminates the vast cemetery.  This far back, it’s easy to forget the bustling city around them, alive with noise and crowded streets and life.

           The cemetery is silent and so is Rachel.  Dead things don’t usually have much to say, after all.

           Sarah glances over at Rachel and watches her for a moment.  Rachel’s looking up at the sky.  You can’t really see any stars here, of course, but she’s looking up regardless.  Looking up, looking for something.

           Now there’s certain softness to her that wasn’t there before – her shoulders fall more freely, her expression less guarded. Rachel’s hands don’t cling as tightly to the bottle.  Sarah’s own body swims with warmth from the whiskey and she wonders if this is the first time Rachel’s ever allowed herself a moment to breathe.

           Out of the corner of her eye, she sees something move under the moonlight.

           She punches Rachel in the shoulder. “Shite, get a look at this sad bastard,” she points across the cemetery to a freshly dug grave.  Desperate hands are digging their way out of the soil. A man – well, a dead man, as it stands – rises up out of the ground still dressed in his Sunday best.  

           Sarah pulls out her stake. “Right outta the ground.  How ‘bout we see who can kill him fastest? Winner gets a point.” The vampire struggles to his feet, wiping off the dirt and looking around in confusion.

           “I told you, Sarah. I’m not interested in your petty competition.”

           “Bull-fucking-shit you are,” Sarah laughs. “Whatever, on the count of three I’m gonna jump down there and if you wanna join me you’re more than welcome.”

           Rachel offers a condescending ‘hmm’ and takes a sip of whiskey.

           “One,” Sarah says in a low voice and Rachel rolls her eyes.

           “Two,” and Rachel sets the bottle down.

           “Three!” and Sarah slides off the mausoleum roof and shit, she’s drunk.  She lands on her feet at first before stumbling ever-so-gracefully back onto her arse.  Rachel lands with a soft ‘thump’ next to her and struts towards the confused vampire with ease.

           “Sloppy work, Manning,” Rachel calls back to her as she punches the vampire in the face.

           Sarah gets to her feet with a grunt and barrels forward towards the two of them, bringing Rachel to the ground and missing the vampire completely. Sarah lets out a loud laugh when she lands on top of Rachel, who’s squirming underneath her.

           “He’s going to get away, you idiot!”  Rachel yells.  She shoves Sarah off of her - all dead weight and obnoxious laughter – and she rolls clumsily onto the grass. By then, the vampire is long gone.

           “You’re hopeless,” Rachel sighs, rubbing her hand on her jaw.

           “Whoops,” Sarah says, managing to stifle the laughter. “He got lucky, is all. We’ll get him next time.”

           Sarah’s not sure how it happens (it’s sudden, it’s careless, it’s muscle, it’s instinct) but the next thing she knows she’s back on top of Rachel, mouth pressed against hers in a rough kiss. Rachel’s clawing at her jacket, pulling her closer.

           Rachel rolls them over so she’s on top and lets her fingers knot tightly in Sarah’s hair.

           Sarah can feel her heart pounding against Rachel’s. Rachel’s hot breath falls against hers in between kisses. She tastes like whisky and the faint, metallic tinge of blood.

           The walk back to the loft is long and dark.  They don’t speak the whole way.    

 

* * *

 

           “So, you two shag yet?” Felix asks nonchalantly and Sarah almost snaps the dish she’s washing into two.

           “Fuck off, Fee,” she says in a low voice.

           “No, I mean it.  There’s even more sexual tension between you two than before, which I didn’t even think was possible.”

           He’s not wrong, of course.  Even though Rachel agreed to extend her stay in Toronto (only after a long and very annoying phone call with her Watcher) their late-night patrols had grown more and more tense.  Helena had clearly taken notice, of course.  She and Rachel took her patrolling with them the night before and Helena spent more time watching the two of them than she did looking for vampires.

Any time Sarah tried to breach the subject, Rachel put a swift end to the conversation.

           Sarah glances over her shoulder. Rachel’s sitting in between Tony (who’s giving her the third degree) and Helena (who’s watching her every move) on the couch.  She looks completely uncomfortable and Sarah holds back laughter.

           “You don’t got anything against werewolves, right?” Tony leans in close to Rachel, sporting a playful smirk on his face. He has his arm draped across the back of the couch behind Rachel. “Don’t wanna be hangin’ around if you wanna kill me.”

           Sarah turns back to Felix and leans against the counter.  She’s sure Rachel will have some sarcastic remark to make about Sarah’s “unique” choice of friends.

           “We kissed, alright?” Sarah says quietly. “The other night after the whole Big Evil thing. Got drunk off our arses and we kissed.  That’s it.”

           Felix’s mouth drops open. “I knew it!”

           Sarah gives him a shove. “Don’t say anythin’ to her, alright? She’s bein’ all weird about it and if she knew I told you she’d kill me in my sleep.”

           “Did you like it?”

           Sarah shrugs. “Wasn’t terrible.”

           Felix raises his eyebrows.

           “Don’t make that face! We were shitfaced, Fee. Doesn’t mean anything.”

           “Alright, alright,” he says, turning back to the sink and pulling out a soapy dish from the water. “But if I catch you two shaggin’ in my bed I’m tellin’ everyone.”

 

* * *

 

           “The origins of the Slayer?” Cosima repeats, cocking her head to the side.  Rachel had offered to help her carry her books back to the occult library across town.

           “Well, there’s never been much of an interest in it, I guess,” Cosima continues as they make their way down the stairs.  “The First Slayer was called and given superpowers and shit through a spell, but that’s about it.”

           Rachel nods. “But there are no details?”

           Cosima shrugs. “No idea. You know just as well as I do that most early records of the First Slayer were lost like, a billion years ago. Hey, your Watcher’s really high up in the council, right? You should try asking him.  If anyone knows, it’d be that guy.”

           “Thank you, Cosima,” she smiles politely and follows her out the door. “When I return to Cleveland I’ll be sure to let him know that I’m curious.”

 

* * *

 

 

           The next time they kiss, it’s in a dirty alley.  Not the most romantic of spots, Sarah thinks, but hey.  This time, she can’t blame the whiskey.

           The two of them had chased the guy two blocks before cornering him in the alley.  Sarah won the footrace and (very loudly) announced the new score (tied four to four) as she sunk the stake in his heart.

           Sarah had laughed and Rachel had mumbled something about “cheating”.

           “Isn’t it kind of crazy how slaying always makes you hungry and horny?”  Sarah said in between heavy breaths, just to watch Rachel squirm.

            Now Rachel’s pushed up against the wall and Sarah kisses her hard.  She lets her hands slip under the hem of Rachel’s shirt.  Runs her fingers over taut muscle hot with adrenaline. Rachel bites down hard on her lip and tries to pull Sarah into the wall, tries to get the upper hand.  Sarah doesn’t budge, keeps her pinned there.

Finally, Rachel pushes her away. Sarah stumbles back.

           “I’m leaving tonight,” Rachel says abruptly.

           “What?”

           Rachel smoothes down her shirt and sucks in a shaky breath. “I need to leave town as soon as possible.”

           This is just Rachel pretending that she doesn’t care, that she’s not at all interested in whatever the hell this is.

           Sarah smirks. “Wha’, I’m really that bad of a kisser? Maybe if you stick around we could go again,” Sarah takes a step forward, almost predatory. A challenge.

           Rachel crosses her arms tight in front of her chest. “I know you’re very amused with yourself but I’m afraid I’m not joking.”

           Sarah rolls her eyes. “Listen, Blondie, we made out and shit but you don’t have to be so bloody weird ‘bout it.”

           “This was clearly a mistake,” Rachel walks towards the street, slowly, deliberately. Sarah trails behind her.  “But my decision is nothing personal, Sarah.”

           “What is it, then?”

           “I have unfinished business to attend to and I will return once all is taken care of,” Rachel rounds the corner and turns onto the sidewalk.  The street’s mostly empty aside from the late-night bar crowd stumbling home.  Sarah picks up the pace.

           “Unfinished – what?”

           “Do not follow me, do not ask where I am going.  I will return in a few days time and I promise to explain everything.”

           “Whoa, whoa, hold up! You don’t get to just up and leave like this,”  Sarah’s voice sounds more hurt than angry now for a reason she can’t quite place.

           “And who are you to say what I can and cannot do?” Rachel still doesn’t look back.

           “I’m offerin’ you everything.  A home, a family, everything.  And you’re tryin’ to up and leave without a word of explanation?  You owe me at least that.”

           “I do not owe you anything, Sarah.”

           “I think you’re lonely!” Sarah shouts without thinking.

           “Do not presume to know me.”

           “You don’t have to do this alone. You know that, right? I know how shitty it is, bein’ a Slayer. You don’t have to pretend that it’s not.”

           You don’t have to pretend you’re above the pain.

           “Goodbye, Sarah.”

           “I care ‘bout you, you know! I wanna help you!” Sarah grabs her by the shoulder and yanks her back.

           Rachel wheels around, elbowing her in the face.  “Do not touch me again,”  she growls.  Sarah’s ready to fight, cocks back a fist.  But Rachel’s eyes meet hers and they’re dark, they’re angry, they’re determined.

           Something tells her this isn’t a fight she’s going to win.  Rachel watches her, waiting.  Sarah lets her fist drop to her side.

           Rachel turns and she runs, runs and doesn’t look back. This time, Sarah doesn’t try to follow her.

 

* * *

 

 

           They say curiosity killed the cat.

           Breaking in was the easy part. Breaking him, she thought, would be a bit of a challenge. Because even now, tied to a chair, her dear old Watcher refuses to speak.  She asks him again (politely, of course) with her knife pressed cool into his cheek.

           The words come out oh so smoothly, after that.  They tumble out of bloody jaws in breathless bouts of please, Rachel, it doesn’t have to be like this and you’re a hero, don’t you see, it shouldn’t matter where you came from.

           Those aren’t the words she wants to hear. Her fingers stroke one side of his face. Her blade slices deep into the other.

           He screams. She smiles.

           “The heart of a demon, that’s where it started,” he says quickly, as if he’s afraid that she’ll cut into him again at any second.  “They – they gave the first Slayer the essence of a demon and, and that’s where the power comes from.  Are you happy!?”

           She presses the knife deeper into his cheek. “Yes.”

Rachel steps back and looks him up and down, breathes in slowly and the air tastes like blood.  Her Watcher pants and leans his head back.  The blood drips down his neck where her hands left bruises.

           “Why,” he breathes and it’s not much like a question.  But Rachel knows that it’s a question with a million possible answers, a list of transgressions that would help him rationalize the pain, make it sting a little less.

           Because he lied to her about who she is.

           Because he destroyed her childhood.

           Because he stole the peace of death and forced her to live again, to kill again.

           Because, because, because. There’s a million reasons but the Council doesn’t deserve any of them.

           “Because I can.”  Because it’s the truth. She watches the knife sink deep into his chest, then out again.

           Curiosity didn’t kill the cat, after all.  In the end, it’s the cat that does the killing.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we go, Rachel Duncan killing a man. As it should be.
> 
> Please kudos + comment with feedback! Thanks for reading.


	5. four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rachel's still MIA and still pissing Sarah off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we are. The chapter from hell is finally finished. Essentially, I forgot how to write and for whatever reason this chapter was really fucking difficult for me. Plus, I lost my work three times (don't worry, I back up my shit now) and it was an all around disaster. But it's here! This was originally one long, 5k word chapter but I've split it in two. The next chapter should be up in just a few days, since I already have it all written.
> 
> Hopefully it's not complete trash! Comment, kudos, give me your first born, etc.

Rachel Duncan dies on Christmas Eve.

A bullet to the chest, another to the stomach - bullets aren’t supposed to kill slayers, slayers are supposed to die heroically at the hands of some great evil, one last challenge, a prophecy, a sacrifice, a, a, a –

a lone vampire with a gun a not even a block away from her flat. He broke the rules – that’s not how a slayer dies, that’s not how Rachel Duncan dies.

She doesn’t die, not yet, not before she knocks the gun out from hands, rips his head from his shoulders. Blood (her blood) smearing her hands, his neck, his face, _crack_ ,

\- dust, dust falling on hot blood. She looks down; the snow is red. Rachel keeps the gun.

She stumbles through the door, not at all graceful, not at all threatening.  Somehow she ends up on the couch, her watcher standing over her, frantically pressing down on her wounds.  Blood sticks to his hands. Leekie mumbles something about an ambulance but Rachel never hears him dial the phone.  

Too late, too late, he says.

“You’ve lost too much blood already, by the time they get here…” She hears him shuffling through his books (his ever-helpful books) in the corner of the room.

“You’d rather I die here,” she chokes, and blood coats her tongue.  

“You’re not dying tonight.”

(who will she be? will she be as good as her? as strong? did she already know she’s a potential Slayer? have they already ripped her from her childhood?)

Leekie’s voice, his reassurances, the sound of books slamming on tables - they all fall away.

(how long until she dies, too?)

 

 

Felix shakes Sarah awake.

“Oi, if I’ve got to read this boring shite then you do too!”

“Sorry, Fee….” Sarah lifts her head up from the table and shifts uncomfortably in her chair. Her hands are shaking. Even in her bloody dreams she has to deal with Rachel Duncan’s bullshit.

Alison looks over at the couch, where Beth, Tony, and Helena are all passed out in a heap.

“I think it’s about time we all called it a night,” she says.

Felix places his hand on Sarah’s shoulder. “You alright?”

It was just a stupid dream, nothing more to it.  That can’t be how it happened, anyway. You can only bring someone back if they die a mystical death, and Sarah’s pretty damn sure getting shot doesn’t count.

“Yeah, yeah. Just a dream is all,” Sarah hunches back over her book. “Let’s just find this demon guy.”

“You worried ‘bout Rachel?”

“No, she can handle herself. Just wish I knew what the hell she was up to, though.”

The door slides open and Cosima hurriedly shuffles in. Alison mumbles something about know one knowing how to the lock the door.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry. I’m late,” Cosima says in a low voice, tiptoeing over to them. “Homework, you know.”  She pulls out a chair and sits down next to them.

“Likely story,” Felix mumbles.  

Alison shoots him a look. “I’m sure that Cosima was doing something important.”

“Nice hickey, by the way,” Sarah says.

“I had no idea university was so hands on,” Felix adds and the two erupt in laughter.

“Alright, alright,” Cosima holds up her hands in the air. “I was hanging out with Delphine and lost track of time. Sorry.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it,” Sarah yawns. “You still bringing her ‘round tomorrow?”

Cosima grabs a book from the pile on the middle of the table and examines the back cover.

“Yeah, she’s all on board for the Scooby Gang family dinner,” she says as she scans through the table of contents. “Are you sure it’s okay, though?  I can introduce you guys another time.”

“If she’s she sticking around,” Sarah says, “she’s gonna have to meet us at some point or another.”

“Besides, we barely know anything about this girl,” Alison says.  

Cosima laughs.

“Jeez, who are you, my parents?”

“We’re practically family, Cos,” Sarah says.

Felix nods. “I promise we’ll be as normal as possible.”

Alison lets out a gasp.

“I found him! The six headed demon guy, I found him!”

She holds up her book, open to a page featuring a crudely drawn creature Cosima had described.

“Yeah, normal,” Cosima laughs. “We’ll see how that goes.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Rachel’s watcher is dead,” Mrs. S says. Still half-asleep, the words don’t really register in Sarah’s head.

“There was a fire at Aldous’ home last night.”

Mrs. S showing up unannounced (well, not really unannounced - she called Sarah about ten times) is never a good sign.  Sarah assumed (hoped) it was just news about the new baddie they were up all fucking night researching.

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Rachel’s bag. Of course it's about Rachel.

Sarah sucks in a breath. “We don’t know that it’s her, right? Coulda been an accident, for all we know,” she plops down on the couch between Helena (who’s wide awake and sharpening a a stake) and Tony, who has predictably fallen back asleep.  She shakes him away and he mumbles something that sounds like ‘fuck off’.

 “You gotta admit it’s suspicious, Sarah,” Felix says as Alison shoves a loaf of bread in his hands and gestures towards the toaster.  Beth used to get recruited for breakfast duty, but after more than one occasion of burnt toast and botched omelettes, Alison sidelined her to sitting on the counter and making sarcastic remarks.

Sarah’s pretty sure that was Beth’s plan all along.

“Let’s say she did it – and I’m not saying she did it,”Cosima says, leaning forward in her chair, “but hypothetically, let’s say she did kill her Watcher.  If she’s like, evil now or whatever she’s probably gonna come after you, right? Cause it’d be your duty to stop her?”

“Christ, she’s not evil.  Sure, she’s a little weird and shit but we don’t know if this is her.  Innocent until proven guilty and all that.”

“Right,” Felix says, “It’s not like she just happened to leave town suddenly and without explanation two days before her Watcher turns up dead.”

“Maybe she left so suddenly because she knew somethin’ bad was gonna happen to him and she wanted to stop it.”

“Why didn’t she tell you, then,” Felix asks.

"‘Cause she wanted to do it alone, didn’t want my help?”

Helena starts sharpening another stake.

“I know it looks bad,” Sarah continues. “She had issues with the guy but it wasn’t like that. She wouldn’t kill him.”

“Of course ya think that,” Felix says, “you’re the one who’s shaggin’ her.”

God, not this shit again.

Beth spits out her coffee.

Alison waves a mug in the air. “Does anyone else want coffee? Tea?”

“Well that’s surely a first,” Mrs. S mumbles.

“Nice!” Tony laughs. “You owe me ten bucks, Cos.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Sarah groans, “I told ya we didn’t shag!”

Sarah makes note to kick Felix’s ass later, and to retroactively kick her own ass for even telling him what happened with - wait.

“You took bloody bets!?” Sarah shouts.           

 “If I had known we were taking bets,” Beth says, “I would’ve gotten in on that shit.”

 Sarah catches Helena out of the corner of her eye, silently watching her.

“We kissed, alright! Is everyone happy?”

Tony looks disappointed.

“Just kissed?” he turns to Cosima, “does that count?”

 She smirks. “Afraid not, loser.”

 Felix grabs a mug of tea from Alison. “You’ve got feelings for her though, right?”

 “It’s not like that, Fee.  We just got caught up in the whole slaying thing.  Heat of the moment an’ all that.”

 “Hey,” Beth calls from the kitchen, “I don’t recall you trying to make out with me the last time we patrolled together.”

 “Same here,” Tony chimes in. “Kind of offended.”

 Sarah holds up a middle finger in both of their directions. “Yeah, you two bloody wish.”

 “If you’re all quite finished” Mrs. S starts. “I’m going to reach out to the council and see if I can get any other information on what happened.  Until we know more, I think it’s best that we’re cautious.  Business as usual, and let’s not do anything rash.”

Sarah nods. “Sounds good to me.”

“But,” Mrs. S continues, “if turns out that Rachel is involved, love, then I’m afraid the Council might ask you to take care of the problem.”

 Sarah doesn’t need to ask what that means.

 

* * *

 

   

Believe it or not, bringing your vampire girlfriend home for dinner is pretty fucking nerve wracking.  Cosima changes her outfit at least five times before almost calling the whole thing off.  

 She and Delphine still end up in front of Sarah’s door, though, for better or worse.

 Cosima reaches out to grab the handle and sucks in a breath.

“Hey,” she lets her hand drop and wheels back around to face Delphine. “Things are probably gonna be a little weird. Weirder than usual, I mean. Just a heads up.”

“Oh.”

“Only a tiny crisis. Probably shouldn’t tell you though, it’s top secret shit.”

 Delphine smiles. “You must be very important to have that kind of clearance.”

“Yeah, I’ve got like, level five security clearance here. Or whatever the highest clearance is.”

“Are you sure this is a good idea?”

Cosima shrugs. “They have to find out at some point. We’ll play it cool, they won’t know. Afterwards, I’ll tell them everything. Once they see that you’re not one of the bad guys maybe they’ll understand.”

“I heard that Slayers can sense vampires.”

Cosima laughs. 

“That’s a myth.  Most of you guys just tend to stick out like a sore thumb. Super pale, suspicious, ‘my wardrobe is about four decades out of date’ types. Except you, of course.”

“I’m glad to hear that I pass the test.”

Cosima reaches for the door again before pulling back.

“Oh, and don’t mention that you know she’s the Slayer,” she says. “Sarah and Helena spent like an hour trying to hide all of the weapons, so just go with it.”

“Were you not supposed to tell me?”

“Yeeaaah, I kinda fucked up on that one.”

“My lips are sealed.”

Delphine leans in and pulls Cosima into a slow kiss, hands gently cupping her face.

“Cool. Lips. Awesome,” Cosima says.

Cosima slides open the door and steps inside. Alison is focused in the kitchen on something in the oven, but other than that the coast is clear.

“I invite you in,” Cosima says in a low voice, gesturing emphatically for Delphine to come in.

Delphine doesn’t move.

“I invite you in,” Cosima says again.

Delphine doesn’t move.

“You don’t live here,” Delphine sighs.

"I mean, I practically do.”

Delphine shrugs. “Apparently that’s not good enough. If you don’t actually live here, you can’t invite me in.”

“Yeah, I guess I didn’t really think this through.”

Alison grabs a plate from the cabinet and makes eye contact with Cosima.

Fuck.

 “Oh, Cosima, you’re early!”

 “Heyyyyy, Alison.”

“Beth is on her way,” she says, rustling through the silverware drawer, “Felix is picking up dessert, and Sarah and Helena are hiding on the fire escape so they don’t have to set the table. Oh, and it’s a full moon so obviously Tony can’t come.”

Alison crosses the room and sees Delphine standing in the doorway.

“Because he’s… bird watching,” she continues, setting a plate down on the table.

Alison isn’t exactly known for her smooth recoveries.

“Bird - oh, yeah, the nighttime, full moon...bird watching club,” Cosima says. “Good for him.”

Alison nods and smiles at Delphine. “You must be Delphine! Please, come in.”

Delphine tries to step inside again, but can’t get her foot over the threshold. She throws Cosima a confused look.

“Doesn’t live here either,” Cosima mumbles under her breath.

“Did you just say something,” Alison asks.

“I said, uh,” Cosima looks around frantically, and God, she really didn’t think this shit through.

“What the fuck are you doing here,” a voice - Beth’s voice - shouts from the hallway.

Delphine’s eyes widen.

“Putain.”

Beth charges at Delphine, bringing her down in a clumsy tackle.  

Alison drops the plates in her hand and comes rushing over.

“Elizabeth, we don’t attack our guests!”

“Get me a stake!”

“A stake?” Alison asks.

“Beth, please -” Cosima says.

“Just get me one, Ali,” Beth yells through labored breaths.  

“Sarah hid all of the weapons!”

Delphine finally throws Beth off of her and get to her feet. She stands a full few inches taller than Beth, all lithe muscle and well, vampire strength. Cosima knows that Delphine could probably kill Beth in an instant like this, frantic and reckless.  Instead, she only does what she can to push Beth away.

Beth stumbles to her feet and goes at her again, mumbling expletives under her breath.

Beth’s never been like this - not even that time Cosima joined her and Sarah on patrols.  Beth has always been strong. She’s the best fighter behind Sarah, and she’s smart about it to. Right now, she’s fucking desperate.

Cosima tries to move, tries to run over and pull Beth back, explain everything.

“Don’t hurt her!” is all she can get out.

Sarah comes climbing through the window, Helena right behind her.

“Oi, what the hell is going on out here?”

She comes running and, within seconds, grabs Beth by the shoulders and throws her back inside the loft. Helena and Alison take the cue and do their best to hold Beth back.        

“Wait, is this Delphine?” Sarah asks.

“Yeah, she didn’t do anything, Beth just - “

“She’s a vampire!” Beth shouts, struggling against Alison and Helena.

“She’s a bloody vampire?”

Without hesitating Sarah has Delphine pinned up against the wall, hand at her throat, and at this point Delphine just looks fucking done with this all of this.

“Stop!” Cosima grabs Sarah by the shoulder.

“Cosima,” Sarah shakes her off, not loosening her grip on Delphine. “She’s a _vampire_.”

“I know,” Cosima says.    

 Sarah looks over her shoulder at Cosima, eyebrows raised.

 “You... know?”

 “She’s not bad,” Cosima starts. “Yeah, she’s a vampire and all but she has a soul now!”

 “Soul my ass,” Beth spits.

 “Wait,” Sarah says, “Beth, how exactly do you two know each other?”

“She used to fuck with me when I was hunting in New York. She was notorious down there, real sadistic and shit. Killed two of my buddies and left me for dead. Last I heard she was heading back to Paris.”

“That was before,” Delphine says, and it looks like she’s speaking to Cosima more than Beth. “I promise you things are different now.”

“She’s lying, Cosima,” Beth shouts.

“Cos, you’re really shaggin’ a bloody vampire?”

“I told you,” Cosima says. “She’s not dangerous.”

“She’s a vampire! You can’t trust her.”

“I promise,” Delphine starts. “I’m trying to make things right - “

“Shut the fuck up!” Sarah tightens her grip on Delphine.  “Cos, when the fuck were you planning on telling us this?”

“After you got to know her a little! I know I fucked up, okay? Just, please don’t hurt her.”

“If you let her go,” Beth says, “you’re letting her kill god knows how many more people.”

“Sarah, please!” Cosima begs.

Sarah doesn’t move for a long time. Finally, she releases her grip from Delphine’s neck and steps back.

“Get out of here,” she says.

“What the fuck, Sarah?” Beth shouts.

“I’m sorry about what I did to you and your friends," Delphine says. "I wish I could take it back, but I can’t."

“If I ever see you again," Beth growls, "I’m gonna rip your fucking head off.”

Cosima grabs Delphine by the hand and pulls her away. Sarah shoves past them and slides the door to the loft closed behind her.

"Let her go," she says to Alison and Helena, and Beth pushes them both away.

 "What the hell are you thinking, Sarah?" Beth looks like she wants to start another fight, and for her sake, Sarah hopes she decides against it.

“You’re really letting Cosima go with her?” Alison asks.

“She can make her own choices, Alison,” Sarah says. “I can’t stop her.”

“Yeah," Beth laughs. "We’ll see if you’re saying the same thing when Cosima ends up dead.”

“I’m the Slayer, alright? This is my job, not yours. I’m the one who has to make the hard decisions.”

“She’s a vampire, she kills people. You’re the Slayer, you kill vampires. What’s so hard about that?”

“I wasn’t gonna kill her in front of Cosima! She’d never forgive me.”

Beth shakes her head. “If she kills Cosima, her blood’s on your hands.”

“There’s a lot of fucking blood on my hands.”

Sarah grabs her jacket off of the couch and throws it on before making her way towards the window. This time, Sarah checks to make sure she has a stake strapped to the inside of her jacket.

She can feel Beth following her close behind and Sarah wishes she had taken ‘accidentally’ swing at her when she broke up the fight.

“Where the hell are you going?” Beth asks.

“I’m going for a walk.”

Helena intercepts her at the window, eyes hopeful.

“I come with you, sestra,” she says, holding up the stake with her name hastily carved into it.

“No,” Sarah says, and it comes out much harsher than she meant it.

She sighs. “No, Helena. Just stay, okay?”

Helena looks down at her feet. She nods.

Sarah climbs out the window without looking back.

“I’ll be back later,” she shouts from the fire escape.

Not only two minutes later, the door slides open again.  Felix steps in, pie in hand.

“I couldn’t find the stupid bakery you told me ‘bout Alison, so I got -”

He looks around and notices Beth fuming on the couch, Helena sharpening a knife, and Alison frantically cleaning kitchen.

“Oi, what’d I miss?”

 

 

         


	6. five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The long-awaited propunk reunion. It goes about as well as you expect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On January 13th, 2014, I started watching Orphan Black. One whole year later, here I am writing an extensive propunk AU fic. Oh, what a tangled web we weave. Thanks for joining me!

Cosima’s fucking a vampire, Beth’s out for blood, Rachel may or may not have killed her Watcher, and Sarah’s here in this cemetery saving some stupid teenager’s lanky ass from getting eaten by his date.   
  
What a fucking shitshow, Sarah thinks, driving the stake deep into flesh.   
  
The kid looks at Sarah in shock and touches a hand to the wound on his neck.   
  
“You killed her,” he says stupidly, stumbling back away from her.   
  
Sarah wipes the dust from her jeans.   
  
“Yeah, ‘cause she was ‘bout to kill you,” she shoves the stake back inside her jacket. “Listen, next time a girl you just met wants to shag in a cemetery, run. It means she wants to kill you. Trust me.”   
  
He nods sheepishly, eyes wide, before he promptly takes off running in the opposite direction.   
  
“You’re welcome!” she shouts after him.   
  
“Fuckin’ twat,” she mumbles.   
  
Sarah doesn’t know what time it is, and she’s not sure she cares. Part of her wants to stay out here all night. As long as she doesn’t have to deal with her own fucking melodramatic shit. Patrolling, saving people, that’s easy.  Wondering if Rachel’s gone to the dark side, resolving her own domestic disasters? Not so much.   
  
“It’s good to see you, Sarah.”   
  
Speak of the fucking devil.   
  
Sarah turns around, and sure enough there’s Rachel fucking Duncan.  She has her arms folded neatly in front of her, chin held slightly up.   
  
“Shite,” Sarah says, “why you gotta come out of the shadows all creepy like that?”   
  
Rachel smiles slightly.   
  
“I apologize for my abrupt departure,” but Sarah knows she doesn’t give a shit.   
  
“Yeah, apology not bloody accepted.  Where the fuck were you, anyway?”   
  
Rachel takes a few steps forward.  The moonlight glints off the knife in Rachel’s hand, which is tucked under her elbow.   
  
“Is there trouble with your merry band of misfits? You seem a bit more...unhinged than usual.”   
  
Rachel looks her up and down.   
  
“Which is saying something.”   
  
Sarah rolls her eyes and ignores the jab.   
  
“Answer the question,” she growls. “Everyone thinks you killed your Watcher.”   
  
“But you don’t,” Rachel seems amused.   
  
“Doesn’t matter what I think. Did you do it?”   
  
There’s a long silence. Rachel steps closer, leans in, and part of Sarah wishes she had brought more than just her stake.   
  
“I drained the blood from his body,” Rachel says, her voice low in Sarah’s ear, “and then I watched him burn.”   
  
Rachel pulls back and watches Sarah intently.   
  
Sarah’s hands ball into tight fists. This is it. Rachel killed her Watcher and now she’s here to kill her, too.  Just inches away, hand wrapped around cold steel. They were in this same cemetery only a few weeks earlier, drunk off their asses.  Sarah thought they were on the same side, some kind of friends, maybe, or at least connected on some level.   
  
(should she grab the knife or run?)   
  
Sarah lets out the breath that she didn’t realize she had been holding.   
  
“What?“ is all she can finally get out.   
  
“Oh, don’t act so shocked. We kill every day, it’s who we are.”   
  
“We’re Slayers, not murderers. It’s different.”   
  
“Semantics.”   
  
“You killed an innocent person!”   
  
Rachel runs a finger along the edge of the knife.   
  
“No such animal,” Rachel pronounces each syllable like a threat.   
  
The first time they met (was it two months ago?) back in Cleveland, they fought. Everything about Rachel was predictable - tough, but predictable. Her fists followed the same fighting style that Slayers have been taught for hundreds of years.  She fights the way Slayers have won fights, lost fights, the way Slayers have died fighting.   
  
Sarah wasn’t scared. Sarah knows how Slayers are supposed to fight.   
  
What they don’t teach you is how Slayers feel.  How they talk, how they think, how they plan, how they fuck.  Mrs. S never told Sarah what a Slayer’s motives are. You learn what Slayers do, but not why.   
  
The truth is, Sarah doesn’t know what Rachel Duncan is playing at, and it scares the living shit out of her.   
  
“What the fuck is wrong with you, Rachel?”   
  
Rachel paces slowly back and forth, looking up at the full moon.     
  
“Forgive me for acting on my own accord for once. You and I just sit back and let the Council tell us what we ought to do. We're just tools to them,” she turns her head to look at Sarah. “Does that not bother you?”   
  
“We don’t do what we do because the Council tells us to,” Sarah tries to hide the anger rising in her voice, or else Rachel might mistake it for fear.   
  
“We do it ‘cause it’s the right thing to do,” she continues.  “We’re Slayers. We’re supposed to do what’s right, yeah?”   
  
Rachel gives a short, condescending hmm in response.   
  
“And why does the Council get to what’s right,” Rachel asks, pacing back towards Sarah. “The Slayer can do whatever she pleases. I believe it’s time they remember who holds the power here.”   
  
Rachel stops abruptly in front of her.  Sarah realizes that she hasn’t moved at all since they started talking. She takes a step forward.   
  
“This is about right and wrong,” she says. “It’s got nothing to do with power.”   
  
“Everything is about power.”   
  
“So what, you killed your Watcher to teach ‘em some stupid lesson ‘bout power?”   
  
“I’m walking away, Sarah. I’m ending the cycle, and I suggest you do the same.”   
  
“Walking away?”   
  
“We could be anything we want and yet we resign ourselves to being cannon fodder. If we embrace what we really are, we could bring this world to its knees.”      
  
“What we really - oh, Christ, is this ‘bout that Redeemer twat?”   
  
“Of course not, he was a madman,” Rachel says. “But even madmen can have good ideas from time to time. He was right, Sarah. Leekie admitted it. We aren’t human. They turned us into monsters to kill other monsters because they’re too weak to do it themselves.”   
  
Sarah shakes her head.     
  
“We’re not monsters. We’re people.”   
  
“Who says people can’t be monsters,” Rachel muses. “Who says monsters can’t be people?”   
  
“Alright, say we aren’t human, then. That doesn’t mean you can just go ‘round killing everyone!”      
  
“I can if I want to.”       
  
Sarah swallows hard.     
  
“I’ll stop you.”   
  
Rachel cocks her head to the side. “Is that your choice, then?”   
  
“Yeah, it’s my bloody choice, I’m not fucking joining your batshit ego trip!”   
  
“Pity.”   
  
Sarah’s heart is pounding in her throat. Another thing they don’t teach you about being a Slayer is how to kill someone you thought could be a friend.   
  
“I don’t want to kill you, Rachel,” Sarah says, and, she really wishes she hadn’t.   
  
“We’ll have to see about that, then.” It's a challenge.   
  
“I said that I don’t want to, not that I can’t.”   
  
“I'd love to see you try. Before that, though, I have something that I think you should know.”   
  
“And what the fuck would that would that be?”   
  
Rachel takes a step to close the gap between them again, and when Sarah lurches forward in response, Rachel drops the knife in the grass with a gentle 'thump'. She folds her hands neatly in front of her.   
  
“While I was watching you earlier, I made a call to a new friend in case you weren’t willing to see eye to eye. To make a long story short, there is a particularly nasty demon waiting outside of Siobhan's house. Unless I call him off, at midnight he will rip your dear Mrs. S apart.”   
  
Sarah wants to punch that smug fucking smirk off of Rachel's lips, beat the stupid self-righteous philosophizing bullshit right out of her.   
  
Sarah shakes her head frantically. “You’re bluffing.”   
  
Rachel shrugs. “Perhaps. But what a shame it would be If I wasn’t.”   
  
She should have seen this coming. All the backhand comments about her approach to slaying, the weird 'we can't exist together' mentality, how closed off she was, how Rachel never actually seemed to give half a shit about her.   
  
(but just a few weeks ago it was Rachel's mouth hot on hers, teeth biting, it was Rachel's hands gripping her neck, looking to bruise)   
  
“I’ll fucking kill you.”   
  
Rachel's closer to the knife, but if Sarah makes the first move she might get lucky.   
  
“It’s possible that you could kill me and still have time to save her," Rachel says, pushing her shoulders back so that she stands just slightly taller than Sarah. "But what if you take too long? You kill me, but you also kill her. Or, God forbid, you lose, and then you both die. Are you going to take that risk?”   
  
(should she grab the knife or run?)   
  
“Why are you doing this to me?" Sarah's voice cracks. "I wanted to help you!”   
  
“Best not start asking too many questions. After all,"  Rachel holds up her wrist and inspects her watch, "you’ve only got... twenty minutes. Is that enough time?”   
  
(should she grab the knife or run?)   
  
“I’ll find you Rachel, I’ll stop you and -”   
  
“Tick, tock.”   
  
Sarah runs.   
  
“See you soon, Sarah," Rachel calls after her, and if Sarah didn't know better she could have sworn she heard her laughing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment, kudos, marry me, etc.


End file.
